


What Will You Leave Behind?

by RoseScentedKisses (AgeofCipher)



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Carlos Is Not A Great Person, Carlos Isn't A Good Boyfriend, Carlos Swears He Loves Cecil, Carlos is Unfaithful, Cecil Doesn't Take This Healthily, Cecil Has A Third Eye, Cecil Is Not Described, Cecil Is a Good Boyfriend, Cecil Isn't Healthy, Cecil Pretends This Isn't Happening, Cheating, Dimension Travel, F/M, Hurt Cecil, I'm Sorry, It's Based Off Of Something From The Sims 3, M/M, Relationship(s), Strexcorp, Well This Came Out Much Differently Than I Expected, What Was I Thinking?, Why Did I Write This?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-18
Updated: 2016-04-18
Packaged: 2018-06-02 23:41:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6587914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AgeofCipher/pseuds/RoseScentedKisses
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Oh Cecil, I knew it was bad, but I didn't know it was this bad."</p><p>Cecil wasn't okay, not in the slightest. He wanted a life he couldn't have, a boyfriend who was faithful.</p><p>But only death could bring that about.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Will You Leave Behind?

It had started a few months ago, Carlos would be gone for days at a time and reappear out of thin air, with a gift or a card for me, apologizing about how he was off doing science and he didn't mean to let time slip away like that. I brushed it off at first, figuring I should at least trust my boyfriend, because if I couldn't, what excuse did I have for loving him?

As time went by, Carlos was gone longer, with fewer days at home. I grew worried, but it was alright, a scientist was always fine. I still worried, begged and pleaded that he'd return home safely.

The first time Carlos was gone for a week I cried myself to sleep each night, and when he finally showed up Sunday morning I was angry but more relieved. He stayed over that night, but seemed distant the entire time, and he gave me vague answers to any questions I had. He didn't ask about my week, and he didn't ask about the empty liquor bottles that littered the floor of my bedroom. I had slept so well that night, the bed warm once again, but in the morning Carlos was gone again.

I didn't say anything about it on air, afraid he'd be listening in on me and be upset that I was talking to the town about our relationship. Carlos began to come home a little more often, mostly at the dead of night he'd come home, sleep and then leave. Somehow, he was always awake before me, but I wasn't sure how. I stopped going out with friends because I needed to be home in case Carlos came home, if he needed my help or if he one day had the news that he'd never have to leave me again.

Janice was upset at my withdrawal, but Abby shushed her, giving me a look of understanding that I didn't understand. What did she think? Did she think I was sick?

I was drinking more and more often, losing sleep in my drunken state. I remember that one night Carlos came home and I was completely out of it, I could barely remember Carlos coming home, looking blank until he saw me, staggering around the kitchen, a mostly empty bottle of vodka in one of my hands. Maybe he noticed the newer bottles I had left around, maybe he didn't, but I did remember seeing a different expression cross his face, confusion maybe. I remember that he had tried to put me to bed, but I wouldn't let him go, saying things like "fall in love, fall silent, and drink your way out". The next morning I woke up with a hangover, dark bags beneath my eyes, and an empty bed.

I got used to it, spending most of my days in a drunken stupor, realizing that I needed to drink more and more to actually get drunk. Carlos came and left at different intervals, sometimes he ignored me and sometimes he'd hold me in his arms, whispering about how it was all going to be okay and how it'd all work out.

It had been about 4 months of Carlos leaving me, and about 2 months where every waking moment of mine was drunk. Station Management didn't enjoy my drunk broadcasts, but they allowed them to go on. I got more emotional when I was off-air, crying and I got more and more violent. At home I was constantly breaking things, bottles, furniture, dishes, anything I could get my hands on when I was in a rage.

Dana came over one day, I wasn't sure of the time or what the day was, I was just curled up on the floor, remnants of dishes I once had scattered around me, tears flowing down my face. She knocked at the door, and I wasn't drunk, although I had quite a few empty bottles from that day. I pushed myself up slowly, and Dana's knocks got more frequent, more frantic.

"Cecil? Cecil? Cecil!" She yelled, banging on the door.

I opened it, and Dana gave a little gasp as she looked at me. I looked down at myself, and I looked okay, a few cuts and bruises from getting upset, but other than that I looked normal, or so I thought. Dana reached a hand out tenderly to touch my cheek, her facing making a horrified expression. "Oh my god Cecil, you look so bad. Please, let me in," Dana pleaded, and I stepped aside, letting her in.

She walked through the small house, looking all around before coming back. "Oh Cecil, I knew it was bad, but I didn't know it was this bad." She said, giving me the look that Abby had given me a month back.

"What do you mean? What do I not know?" I asked, my voice getting a little louder, and Dana shrank away a bit.

"Cecil, Carlos said you broke up. What do you mean you don't know- oh. Oh. Oh my god." Dana ran a hand through her hair. "Cecil, I swear I didn't know, oh my god, I'm so sorry, could you ever forgive me?" Dana asked, looking into my eyes. I turned away from her, leaning onto the counter and looking out the window, my grip tightening on the kitchen counter.

"What? What did you do Dana?" I said quietly, fearing the answer but craving to know it all the same.

"I-" Dana swallowed, and I could hear her shifting her weight behind me. "I got together with Carlos, but I wasn't the only one," She said quietly, and I moved my hand slightly to grip a cup that was on the counter.

"What?" I turned towards Dana, to see fear on her face.

"I didn't know! He said you'd broken up..." Dana trailed off, noticing my grip tighten on the glass cup.

"Cecil, please-" 'Get out! Get out of my house!" I screamed, throwing the cup at her, letting it hit the wall and shatter into a bunch of pieces. Dana covered her head and ran, opening the door and leaving. She got to the gate to the street and looked back at me, scowling at her from the doorway.

"I'll help you Cecil, I swear!" She called before disappearing, and I shut the door, putting my back to it and sliding down the door. I felt sick, I felt a lot of things flowing through me, and I didn't want to think. I wanted to die, but I really wanted to drink, to drink myself away until I couldn't think.

 

* * *

 

The next time Carlos came home after that, I was a wreck. I hadn't been on air at all, I'd missed at least 4 shows and I knew that Station Management had to have been pissed at me. I was somewhat drunk, not completely trashed that I had no idea where I was but I was drunk enough for everything to seem a little...slow. I had heard the door open, and someone walked in, turning on the light. I covered my eyes, but I knew who it was, and rage flooded my system.

"So what, finally remembered you had a boyfriend?" My voice croaked, finally being used in what must've been days. Carlos froze where he was, halfway across the room to me.

"You're drunk Cecil, come on, let me help you get to bed and I'll clean up the house, okay?" Carlos sighed, resuming his walk across the room.

"You're wrong, I'm not drunk, not yet. God, I wish I was." I turned to look up at him. "Too bad we don't get what we want, do we? So what do you want Carlos? Why do you even come back here?"

Carlos sighed, burying his face into his hand. "Cecil, I love you, I really do but you're drunk, please, just let me help-"

"Oh, you 'love me'? Then where were you when I broke down? Where were you when I was too drunk to know my own name? Where were you when I could barely function without you? Do you even know how this has effected me? Do you even care?" I shot, glaring up at Carlos, although my heart still jumped when he looked at me.

"Science, Cecil, come on, we've gone through this. You can be mad at me all you want, just let me make it up to you." Carlos said, borderline pleading but I wasn't taking it.

"Science, huh? So should I call you Carlos The Liar now, too?" I said quietly, looking away from Carlos.

"What do you mean?"

"Oh Dana told me  _all_ about what's been going on. You've been sleeping with the town, haven't you?"

"I- Cecil, that doesn't mean I don't love you,"

"That doesn't mean that you even thought about how this would effect me, how I'd feel about you being- being a man-whore." I said quietly, getting up from the floor.

 

"I'm tired of hurting because you feel the need to sleep around and play me, and I'm sick of you. If you aren't going to change to stay with me, then leave." I whispered, just loud enough for Carlos to hear, because he began to walk towards the door, but he turned around, letting my heart sink.

"Cecil? I'm going to come back changed for you, I'm going to stop, I swear. I love you." Carlos said, turning around and leaving.

* * *

 

Cecil was terrible. Cecil wanted Carlos back so bad, he wanted to let him back in, but he knew that if he did, nothing would really change. He'd get hurt and hurt again, and he didn't want that. He wanted so desperately to let Carlos explain himself, let him fade back into the perfect man he was. Cecil kept finding himself waiting for Carlos to get home, before he'd remember he had kicked his boyfriend out, that he wasn't coming home.

He thought he should've felt relieved, he didn't have to wait around at home all the time because he was missing a boyfriend, he was a free man but he only ever left to buy liquor, and that wasn't a constant in his life. He was fairly sure he'd been replaced by someone else, an intern at the Night Vale Community Radio Station. Cecil still had money in his bank account, but he wasn't sure how long it'd last, and he hadn't noticed but he'd become much thinner, as alcohol was often the only thing he consumed. 

Cecil missed being with Carlos, he wanted to call him and let him in, give him the new key to the doors and let him back in. Cecil missed Carlos, missed the "us".

He had to stay strong, to not let himself be a doormat, to let Carlos run around and do whatever he pleased. It wasn't Cecil's job to fix this, because it was Carlos who broke everything, so he was going to fix it. 

Cecil knew deep down that Carlos wasn't able to fix this, although he hoped the other man could do it, the way he felt the other man as perfect, he knew it wasn't true. Everything was messed up and this wasn't going to be fixed, and Cecil knew exactly what could help: he could switch timelines with another version of himself.

It wouldn't be easy but he'd forget he was ever this Cecil, and if he killed his double in his place, who could tell? As long as he cleaned up a bit and did a bit of searching, he'd be fine.

In the bathroom, Cecil uncovered the mirror and stared into it, reflecting back millions of versions of himself, and the first image of himself he saw was perfect, they were happy and their Carlos loved them so far as to give up aspects of his life for them. Cecil knew he wouldn't remember being this version of himself ever again, and it'd be different. He was sure he'd be changed in some way from the process of switching dimensions, but he couldn't careless.

Hello to a new life.

 

* * *

 Kevin woke up in his office, the wonderful broadcasting booth that was covered in dried blood and viscera. He frowned for a minute, remembering that he had dreamed for once, and he dreamed he was Cecil, a different Cecil though, one addicted to liquor and they had a pretty shoddy life.

He shook the dream from his head and smiled, dismissing thoughts of being Cecil from his head.

Leaning back, he let out a content sigh as his computer flickered to life, showing a broadcast of Desert Bluffs. "Believe in a Smiling God." He whispered as his eyes closed to the sweet harmony of screams.

 


End file.
